Scape Goat
by antishock
Summary: In the beggining I was to be a scape goat. In the end I was to be thrown away. I accepted it, knowing that it was invetible... In the middle, I wanted myself to fight back, no matter the cost, whether it be death or everything I worked for to be taken away. Insane Naruto!


_**Scape Goat**_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**If you don't know what you want, you better fricking know what you need ~ antishock**_

* * *

Electric blue eyes darted around, scanning the area. A thin slip of water fell down onto the stone floor.

_ Ping._

It was very dark, and even the darkness itself had a shadow. Most would be scared of the darkness and the embrace it would hold you in, but not me. Darkness was a safe house for me no matter where I went.

_ Ping._

The sounds of footsteps reached my ears. My ears twitched in anticipation, but I calmed them down. Out here, no matter how small the movement was, it wasted energy that was needed.

_ Ping._

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement through all the darkness. Slowly but surely, the form of a person walked right past the alley I was in. No one else was out, so now that person was a perfect target. The person was rather lucky that I spotted him/her first, for the other street dwellers weren't as merciful.

_ Ping_.

I tried to control my... homeostasis, I believe. The sweat on my face was an annoyance even though it did relieve me from some of the heat. However, sweat was even worse than losing energy. Sweat was water, and if you become dehydrated out on the streets; you wouldn't stand a chance. Once you're dehydrated, you would not be able to do anything. People would ignore you in favor of other things. They were cruel hearted, but that was just how things are. Even I know not to help someone in that situation because they'll back stab you. It has happened before to me before, and I did not like the experience.

My hand lightly trailed a scar on my stomach that would most likely be there forever. I grimaced as I remembered what the scar looked like. A grim reaper, the bringer of death. The memory was enough to remind me of my mistakes. I didn't like looking down at my stomach - I only had enough cloth to cover my private parts so my stomach was bare. If I ever saw 'him' again, I would torture him till he begged for mercy.

A cough alerted me back to the present. The person was getting farther away! I had to catch him before he got away from the side of the alley way.

_Ping_.

I sprung into action, my hands grabbing a makeshift knife that was laying on a garbage can next to me.

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The knife was my hugest accomplishment. I was one of the few out there who could make weapons from junk and then to be actually able to use it. Most of the groups of street orphans wanted people like me, but I heard that they would make you make millions of weapons without breaks or food and water. Living by myself was a better option.

The knife was a mix of materials. The handle was made from some leather I found thrown away. The blade itself was made from a tirade of random items I had found. The tip of it was made from a metal toy block. My hands had hurt after chipping all the metal away with my nails. I'm pretty sure it shouldn't be even possible to break metal with nails, but if it worked, then it was okay in my books.

The middle of the knife was split into two items. A copper metal was on the bottom while the top seemed to be made of stone. The stone part was very hard to get while the copper was way to easy to get. To get the stone, I had to find many pebbles and then find the right combination to fill every gap. After a day or so, I had gotten it done.

The bottom was by far the easiest to get. All I had to do was sneak into a battle field that groups of orphans had fought in and take a bone from a dead kid. It had taken some time to wiggle the bone out of there - that tendon just didn't want to let go - but I managed it. Then, all I had to do was claw at it until it was the perfect form.

Obviously they wouldn't stick together, so I had entered a weapon store, snuck by a girl who looked like a panda with those buns, and found a forge. I had then quickly put the items on hot as Hell metal plate. It took an hour or so before they smelted into each other, and then I had to cool it off. Bla bla bla, the rest is history.

I broke off into my fastest run ever. My right hand, which held the knife, tightened as I got closer to the person. Just a meter away from the person, at the edge of the alley way, I jumped up into the air. The shadows let go of me, and my blonde, spiky hair flew free. The light reached my seven-year old body. A seven-year old body wasn't very strong, but it was fast so it fit my purposes. Just as I was an inch away from stabbing the knife in the person's stomach, the person shot a hand out and grabbed my knife hand.

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That day, I learned something that I should never do.

Never **Ever** try to rob a ninja.

Especially if it's Uchiha Itachi.

* * *

Ever stared death right in the eye, as if you were telling it to fuck off? No? Well I did. I then learned another thing. At least death was merciful. Ninjas? Not so much.

I had heard many things about the Uchihas. They were the police force of this village, Konoha, and they had a bloodline, Sharingan, which apparently instantly made them the 'elite' ninjas. Tons of prodigies had come from the Uchihas such as the 'Swift Death' Uchiha Shisui. However, out of all the Uchihas I've heard about, one stood out. The strongest of all the Uchihas, the biggest prodigy, besides Minato Namikaze, ever to be seen. Uchiha Itachi. Er, I don't think he has earned a nickname yet.

He didn't need a nickname though. Just his normal name, Itachi, was enough to instill fear into anybody but the kages and the sannin.

The only reason I know a lot about the Uchihas is because I live in their alley ways. I live there because the clan compound was the safest place in Konoha right next to the Hokage Tower. Not much happens in the Uchiha compound, also, and new thing are very dangerous. Now that I'm thinking about it, about 20 minutes ago I heard people screaming. I should've escaped as soon as I heard them, but my stupidity took over.

Honestly, if I could go back in time to stop this, I would do anything in my power to do so. My eyes darted around, trying to find an opening to escape, but I knew that ninjas were smarter than that. They left no openings lest they die in combat. My eyes narrowed. If there were no openings, then how would I be able to get out?

I stared defiantly into Itachi's eyes, which were oddly red with a weird pattern in it, as if I was mocking him. Itachi, in return, gave me a grim smile. His eyes, I then realized was a sharingan. I had heard the the Uchiha's bloodline made their eyes turn red and gave them a copy ability. I had heard little snippets of how the sharingan looked; the pupil in the middle with three commas surrounding it. However, his eyes were different.

Then I noticed something. There was blood.

**All over him.**

* * *

**Street Orphan 101:**

**Rule 1: Never attack a ninja.** To late for that, I suppose.

**Rule 2: If caught by a ninja, don't struggle.** I didn't even bother.

**Rule 3: Never get caught by a ninja coated in blood. You will most likely die.** I just realized how important that rule was, just now.

There were ton of other rules that were made by my sensei who helped me survive out here. He lived out on the streets since day one and he was at a ripe age of 53 already. I had always asked him how he survived being out there and how he continued to do so at his age, but he just told me it was all about luck. Luck, luck, luck. Always about luck, though I do suppose that he is right. After all, if you were born into a rich family, you got lucky. And the beginning of your life is always important, so in the end it is all about luck.

I never had good luck though. I'm pretty sure that if hypothetically the other orphans' luck were awesome, then mine, in comparison, would be crappy. Or shitty, whichever you prefer.

My sensei, Matt, drilled into my head that if I met a ninja in blood, they would kill me. Why, you ask? If a ninja is bloody, then they probably did a secret mission, and any witnesses of their current state would be dealt with so no one would know that they just killed. "Leave no witnesses" was a ninja saying, and they always fulfilled it.

As soon as I saw a kunai appear in Itachi's other hand, I followed my gut instinct and I let go of my knife. Thankfully Itachi wasn't squeezing hard enough for me not to open my hands big enough to drop my knife. As soon as the knife fell, in a burst of speed I grabbed it with my free hand. On instinct, I zipped my knife to meet the enemy's kunai.

_Ping._

The two weapons clashed, but I knew that I wasn't going to win. All I was doing was holding off my death for a while. My feet started to slide back as Itachi used more force. His better crafted weapon then started to dig into mine. I knew my knife wasn't going to last very long so I looked for anything else I could use. I knew it was fruitless though. Itachi was just playing with me, like a cat plays with its food.

That wasn't going to stop me. In fact, I think I just found a way to surprise Itachi enough to let me get out of here. My get away was a small little cut in the kunai, probably from a recent battle. If I could just move my knife into that spot and use all my strength, then maybe I could break his kunai!

Unknown to me, Itachi saw the movement of my eyes which had landed on the niche on the kunai. Even though I couldn't see it, I felt as if the corners of Itachi's lips lift upwards as if he was going to smile. Ignoring that, I tried to move my kunai to the niche, and to my surprise it was much more easier than I thought it would be! It seems the saying, 'It's easier said than done,' doesn't hold true for everything. In fact, this situation was the exact opposite! I had imagined that it would be near impossible to even move my knife to the cut in the enemy's knife, but it was way more easier!

My knife slowly moved to the right, the niche was in that direction, and I kept pushing until I felt the knife go a little forward. My weapon was in the cut! I honestly wanted to grin with all my might, but I knew I shouldn't. It was another rule that my sensei had made for me.

**Rule 4: Never show your emotions for the enemy will use it to their advantage.**

In honor of him, I made sure to never show my emotions, and that included a grin. I kept my mouth shot and gritted my teeth, in anticipation as I slowly pushed my knife into the crack.

_Crack!_

Itachi didn't even react to it as he deftly punched me in the face. I was thrown a few meters back, crashing into a wall. My bones popped with the force applied to them, and suddenly my world was in pain.

"Pathetic," I heard in the form of a soft yet emotionless voice. I wanted to get up and beat the crap out of him, show him what I was made of, but I couldn't. I heard the footsteps of Itachi, and slowly they diminished telling me that he was walking away. Soon, everything went black.

Remember when I said that I looked into death's eye and told it fuck off? That was an exaggeration. I just looked into a ninja's eye and told him to fuck off. I'm pretty sure that if I actually did the eye contact, death would eat me up.

How am I sure of this, you ask?

I'm staring right at it.

Meeting the Shinigami so wasn't on my to do list.

My my, doesn't he look hungry?

Fuck.

* * *

**AN:**

**Hello people of the United Stories of Fiction, I'm President Antishock, here to bring you some good news.**

**I'M BACK BITCHES!**

**I tried something new today; I've never seen it in another story yet, so I assume that I'm the first one to do this. As you probably already noticed, there were text arts in the story. I would've added the text art for Mangekyo Sharingan, but sadly it only allowed me to do two text pictures. :(**

**Depending on the feedback to the text art, I may continue it, but if you guys don't like it; well, that idea is going back to the drawing board.**

**If people start using that idea, I better get credit at first :(. If tons of people start to use it, then you don't have to give credit. Yeah, I know, I'm a credit whore, deal with it.**


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